Incarnation of White
by EiriFllyn
Summary: Taylor gets white magic powers-buffs, healing, and a lot of light. And she needs a religious cult to fully power up. LitRPG/Game elements.
1. Baptism 1-1

**Summary: **Taylor Hebert wants to be a hero. Then she woke up with the power to do just that and more. By the magic of the White Realm, she can cast spells to empower heroes, inspire others, and summon mythical beings. Just perfect for an aspiring hero, or is it? Technically a crossover with Master of Magic.

**Prologue**

_The Supreme Pontiff delivered his sermon passionately. He stood atop a high pedestal, on a tower that overlooked the hundreds of thousands of faithful that gathered for the service. Millions were watching from elsewhere through cameras._

_All was as it had been for hundreds of years, since the False Age of Enlightenment, when the extremist leaders of the Revolutionary Empire of Pure Reason were beheaded by their own guillotine invention and the word of God returned triumphant in The Theocracy._

"_And now—"_

_He was cut off by the neigh of a horse._

_A short armoured figure in a translucent aura riding atop a steed of pure white with a single sharp golden horn in the shape of a twisted cone appeared in front of him._

_The unicorn turned its sparkling, judging, eyes to him disdainfully and snorted._

"_Who—what are you? What is this?" The Pontiff demanded with a frown._

_The armoured figure looked over the masses, then turned to the Pontiff. It nodded and in the voice of a young girl, said, "Yes, this should do," as if to itself._

"_You are interrupting—" The Pontiff spoke but was again interrupted._

"_By my Authority as Champion of the White Realm, I hereby declare!_ You will listen. You will kneel. You will repent. Behold, I am the messenger of truth and the glory of life. Submit and pray before me, for I speak the **[Holy Word]**!"

_The Pontiff fell to his knees. His eyes were wide open, but his mind resisted the compulsion._

"_There is but one true deity, and she is my master, the White Goddess TYLR!" The armour figure shouted. _

"_N-no! Blasphemy!"_

_**LISTEN. KNEEL. REPENT.**_

_The jaws of the Pontiff fell and his eyes became bloodshot as he foamed at the mouth. _

_While his mind tore itself apart fighting the spell attempting to subvert his faith, he couldn't hear the screaming cries of the god-fearing masses, even as the more dedicated ones clutched their heads in pain or ran away in panic._

_The figure raised a hand slowly, removing an amulet from her neck in the shape of a white ankh and she held it high in the air. _

_It glowed ominously with unspeakable power, then it shone with a searing white light that covered the streets._

"_You! Will! Submit! __**[Holy Word]!**__" The youthful voice shouted again. _

_This time, boosted by the [Artifact] in her hands, the masses below kneeled down in sync and tears flowed freely as they begged forgiveness._

_The Pontiff cried tears of blood that mixed with the foam in his mouth. _

_The figure retracted her hand and carefully placed the amulet over her neck again, basking in the wonderful feelings it generated in her soul. She sighed contentedly, holding it tightly before reluctantly letting it go._

_Underneath her helmet, she was smiling with giddiness. _

_She said to her steed, running a hand over its head, "We did it! Just a little bit more, and all of Earth Cheit will follow Her soon!_"

"_Neeigghh!" The unicorn replied._

…

**Baptism 1.1**

I woke up in a cold sweat with a gasp. Just a nightmare, I thought in relief. Even now, it was receding into the back of my mind, like all dreams did when you woke up you started forgetting. What was I even so scared of? The face of the man bleeding tears came up again. Other than that, I couldn't even recall what happened in the nightmare anymore. Something with a unicorn?

Ha, how could unicorns be scary?

Oh well, nothing to be concerned about.

I got up and checked my mana reserves.

I couldn't kept the excitement off my face as I finished my morning routine.

Last night I had just finished my altar and it had been collecting mana for me all night long. As I stood in front of my creation, the spell I was most eager to try came to my mind.

The words of power flowed from my mouth like a hymn of war.

"_Oh valiant warrior, take upon the mantle and feel the call of a just cause! Let justice be your strength and courage, for justice shall prevail! In the time of darkest night, step into the light and bear the burden of __**[Heroism]**__!"_

My voice felt almost foreign to me as it rang through my ears and reverberated in my chest.

I was engulfed by the trepidation of my first true enchantment. This was the moment of truth that would reveal whether I had gone crazy or if I really had a power.

The mana in my soul burned away, its comforting presence leaving an empty void that was painfully conspicuous even though I only felt mana for the first time last night.

Even as my well of mana dried up, more energy flowed from the altar before me, trickling in slowly but surely.

But even as the comfort of mana left me, something even more wondrous replaced it.

The sun shone brightly through my window, but I felt as if an even brighter light was shining from inside of me.

That light was a searing star in my mind's eye.

It was a rush of fire through my veins and a torrent of overflowing strength.

I took a deep breath, and flexed my new lean muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a face that exuded conviction and confidence.

Was that really me?

Still the same awkward features but the person within was different. There was a pressure on my eyes that reminded me of when my prescription was lighter and I tried on my mom's glasses with a too high prescription for me.

I took my glasses off and blinked. My vision was perfectly clear. Not just that—there was a sense of awareness of everything around me. Not supernatural, just total.

It took only a moment before I identified the cause.

My peripheral vision had improved drastically. Every little detail at the corners of my eyes was being captured. I had been used to glasses that didn't cover the whole breadth of my vision, so I should have expected that. But I had the distinct feeling that it was something more. I could seemingly look one way yet focus in another direction with my mind, and I didn't remember being able to do that before, ever.

A smile found its way to my lips.

I closed my eyes and felt the cold breeze on my skin coming from the window. I listened to the sparse sounds of insects, crickets chirping and cicadas whining, the telltale signs of the end of winter and beginning of spring.

In this moment, my mind and body were in perfect sync.

It would only be temporary, but just then I felt as though I could do anything.

That was the power of the spell [_Heroism_].

All my fears and worries hiding in the corners of my mind had been illuminated by the light, and I saw them for what they truly were.

Winslow High, the Trio, the locker…pointless antics of immature children. They could bully vulnerable kids, but not a hero with a just cause.

Satisfied, I left for my morning run. A hero had to keep up her training, after all.

The run didn't even tire me after running faster than I ever had before.

I marched through the gates of Winslow with my head held high. People talked and pointed but their negative comments did nothing to the positive energy filling my body.

They were cowards that flocked together and put down others because they had not the strength to stand by themselves against the real monsters.

Classes went by easily as greater focus and clarity helped me to absorb the materials quickly.

A few times spitballs came at me but I noticed the attacks before they came and dodged them.

Soon, it was time for lunch. I grabbed my food but I didn't go into the cafeteria. Better to avoid trouble and find a place by myself.

But nor did I go to the bathroom like some bullied girl as had been my routine for the past little while.

No, I went up to the roof instead, and ate my sandwich while looking over the city, the light of the noon sun giving me warmth that countered the chill of early spring. I took my glasses off and enjoyed the flawless vision of a veteran warrior piercing through the battlefield.

This was my city, Brockton Bay. A city of gangs and crime, broken people, a graveyard of sunken boats, and forsaken hope.

I was born and raised here and in my memories it had never been a thriving city.

But I could change that. I had the power to do it. I didn't have the spells for it now, but I knew I had the potential.

My instincts told me there were powerful enchantments that could be cast on entire cities to make them prosper. There were even enchantments that could be cast on the entire world, I thought, but it would take immense power, far, far more than I had access to with just one altar and no followers. And I needed to figure out how to learn those spells, because my current repertoire was fairly limited.

Even if I never got there, I was a hero now. I could fight crime and make the city better one day at a time.

And I would do it. Whatever it took.

That was my just cause.

I was just passing by the girls' bathroom on my way down when the Trio came out of it.

Did they check every stall and fail to find me?

Emma had a surprised look as she saw me. Then it turned into a fake smile. "Oh, Taylor, there you are! I had been wondering if you got sick today when you weren't in the bathroom. Are you feeling alright?"

I walked forward as if she wasn't even there.

Sophia came forwarded and cut me off. "Hey, she's talking to you."

I barely gave her a second glance before turning to go around her.

She immediately cut me off again, this time getting right in my face. "I said she's talking to you, Hebert."

I stopped as well, and stared into her eyes. I felt the same sensation from Sophia I had been feeling for the past couple of months since the locker incident.

Like a pulsing resonance in my soul.

There was something in her that my soul craved for. What it was, I didn't know, but the implications scared me a little. I knew I could do _something_ with it. Something that could make me more powerful.

All I had to do was take her to my altar and perform the necessary ritual.

She wouldn't die, but whatever it was I took from her—potential, I thought—would be lost to her.

Nobody else in the school so far had given me the same feeling. I had to be up close, so that didn't mean there was nobody else. Still, I had to wonder what made Sophia special.

But today, I noticed something extra.

"Did you become deaf all of a sudden? Maybe she really is sick, Ems," said Sophia.

It was the way she held herself. Her posture and movement as she cut me off. Under the power of [_Heroism_], I recognized the signs of training and honed reflex.

She was on the track team, so she was athletic, but to my eyes, it looked more like she was prepared to strike at any moment. Strike me, that is, if I tried to escape. It was the kind of thing I would expect from somebody who'd seen real combat.

Of course, Sophia did actually get into fights sometimes, according to rumors I'd heard. And she seemed like the type to get up to dangerous things out of school, so maybe that wasn't really strange and I was thinking too much on it.

"I am sick. Of your childish antics. Stop wasting my time and get out of the way," I said.

"Hey, we're just showing our concern for you. I know you've been struggling with bulimia. Why are you being so aggressive all of a sudden? Is it that time of the month for you?" Emma asked.

Bulimia? Where did that come from?

"Emma…you're an idiot," I said, then I marched forward, directly into Sophia and my eyes dared her to keeping blocking me.

She didn't. Her eyes widened and by sheer reflex, she dodged me, as I expected. Nothing could stand in the way of a true hero.

I strode past her without a second look. For whatever reason, she didn't try to stop me again.

At the end of the day, I let the [_Heroism_] spell dissipate. It would have gone away on its own at the twenty-four hour mark, but dissipating it early returned some of the spent mana back to me—not proportionally, unfortunately, only a very small fraction was returned. But I did it anyway because I was home and I wanted to know what exactly would happen when it dissipated.

I almost immediately regretted it, as the strength given to me ebbed away. The muscles I temporarily gained also turned back to normal, the frail limbs of a lanky girl. I felt weak, vulnerable, and less sure of myself without the enchantment empowering me.

I sat at my desk, looking at my altar. It was a small, portable thing, about the size of a small notebook computer. It was square, and consisted of a flat wooden base with carved decorative patterns rising from the back. At the center-back was a raised area, and on top of it was a wooden ankh painted in white. In front of the ankh were two silver-coated candleholders. At the very front was a gold-coated round plate affixed to the wooden base, to put offerings.

My power was expensive. The altar needed the gold and silver components to work at all, and it was grossly inefficient right now, because I didn't have enough money to get more ornate jewelry.

My power obviously rejected the ascetic lifestyle.

I even cannibalized some of my mom's old stuff for this. If dad ever found out…

But now that I knew it was all real, should I just tell him? I could use the power boost from getting a follower to pray at my altar, but the thought of my dad praying to me was disturbing.

My power had a strange theme to it. Everything was fueled by mana—and I could get it in one of two ways, both of which revolved around altars.

After constructing an altar and casting the [_Magic Spirit_] into it, it would automatically collect mana on its own from the surrounding area, then send it to me. But if people, followers, prayed to the altar or to me while they were in the area the altar covered, it would also collect more mana.

Using that mana, I could cast spells. In theory, they would work on other people just as well as it did on me. In fact, I was pretty sure I was _supposed_ to be using them on other people. They just had to be a valid [Friendly Unit].

I could turn regular people into heroes, and make heroes even more powerful.

If only I knew how people became [Friendly Units]. So far I was the only one. Apparently not even my dad was friendly enough, because he didn't have the indicative white ankh symbol floating over his head that I did, which nobody else could see.

I had a sneaking suspicion about it…but could I really go out and start a cult to worship me?

It seemed like that was exactly what my power wanted me to do. I even had a spell called [Champion Investiture], whose purpose was exactly as it sounded—to invest power into a worthy Champion sworn to fight for my cause.

I sighed.

What should I do?


	2. Baptism 1-2

**Baptism 1.2**

I put aside the question for now. It wasn't something I had to make an immediate decision on. There were plenty of things I could do just by myself, and I didn't necessarily _need_ followers to get more mana. I just had to build more altars, and put them in other places to gather mana for me.

The only problem was that I was already out of money and materials. But, there was a potentially way to solve that using my power.

With the one altar, I already had enough mana generation to cast several low level spells each day. I could cast [_Heroism_] about three times with one day's worth of mana generation, I estimated.

Yeah, [_Heroism_] was a low level spell. I felt really amazing under its effects, but I knew objectively it wasn't that powerful. It made me stronger, faster, more durable, more skilled, and a probably whole bunch of other things I didn't notice yet, but it didn't make me _superhuman_, from what I tested today.

That was probably why it didn't cost much mana.

I could also just build up my reserves for something bigger. There didn't seem to be any limit to how much mana I could store in my soul, or maybe I just hadn't hit it yet.

As it is, there were a few spells in my [Spellbook] I simply couldn't cast until I had a much bigger reserve, including [Champion Investiture]. It apparently needed a colossal amount of mana—about an entire month's worth. I obviously wasn't going to be casting that anytime soon without more altars.

Anyways, my thoughts went back to solving my money problem.

I placed a candle on each of the candleholders on my altar, then took out a lighter and lit them up.

Then I carefully laid a white table cloth on top of the offering plate, and put some iron filings over the cloth.

I let my palm hover over the iron filings and began to concentrate. There was no chant for this process.

"_Transmute!_"

I poured my mana into the alchemical reaction. The mana drained way faster than I expected, and I ended up using about eight hours' worth, I estimated, before I stopped myself.

Light shone from underneath my hand and it was quickly over. The filings were still there.

Did it fail? I felt a wave of crushing disappointment. Without this, I was going to have a terrible time increasing my mana generation.

Wait—I saw something glimmer in the filings.

I bent down to take a closer look.

My eyes went wide when I noticed the small specks of reflective yellow among the filings. Disappointment turned to shock and awe.

I had almost been expecting myself to fail. I mean, turning iron into gold? That was the dream of all alchemists for hundreds, maybe thousands of years.

How could my power just let me do it so easily?

I quickly went into the kitchen and got a weight scale and a small measuring cup. Then I went back to my room and carefully removed the iron filings, scraping the gold dust off of it as best as I could.

Before long I was staring at the number on the scale.

2.2 grams of gold.

I already looked up the approximate value of gold at the library before. Each gram was worth about $30. I did the calculations in my head quickly.

If I sold this to a pawn shop or something, I probably wouldn't get the full value, though I didn't know how much. I was obviously also losing some of it because I couldn't gather the gold dust together efficiently. Some had probably dropped or stuck to the iron filings still, too small for me to see.

But if I could generate 2 grams of gold for mana equal to one-third of a day's generation, I could be making $180 per day. $5400 a month. Well, excluding the cost of the iron. But I mean, iron was dirt cheap in comparison. These filings cost me less than ten bucks. Plus, my power informed me that I could make the gold without the iron. Without anything at all except my mana, in fact. It would just be a lot less efficient.

But making over five grand a month all of a sudden?

How much did my dad make again? I was pretty sure he didn't make much more than that, if that at all.

I sat there for a while just imagining what I could do with all that money. First I would buy more materials to make more altars. Then I'd look into buying precious gems to decorate the altar better, so that its efficiency rose. Finally, I'd use the additional mana income to make more gold, repeat and profit.

It didn't have to be a lot. There were all sorts of capes out there and I probably wasn't the only person who could make gold somehow. So there were probably controls over that kind of thing, people in the government watching for it. But all I needed was to be able to make enough gold to build more altars. Even without gems, the altars worked fine, and wood plus silver was cheap enough in comparison to gold that money wouldn't limit me anymore.

Then a sudden thought sent me crashing down.

What if it wasn't real gold? Even worse, what if it was some kind of magical gold that had weird chemical properties and would instantly out me as a cape if I tried to sell it?

I had to find out.

Since my dad wasn't home yet, I could go out on my own without any fuss. I put on a big hoodie and covered my face in a scarf and sunglasses. Then I took poured the gold dust into a small plastic container.

"Buyin' or sellin'?" The middle-aged balding man sitting on his stool behind the glass counter asked me with narrowed eyes that ran up and down my profile. I would have thought he was checking me out except for the fact that I was totally covered and obviously rather suspicious and I was ugly enough that nobody ever checked me out anyway.

"Selling," I said in a slightly muffled voice behind my scarf. Although I said that, I was planning to sell right away. I only had the two grams with me, and who was going buy that? I just needed to check whether the gold was real, and I needed somebody with the right tools and experience. I mean, I could eventually test it myself if I ordered all the stuff I needed online, but I'd have to ask for money from dad, and I didn't want to do that. Once I got it tested, I could decide what to do after, and just say that I had more, if the shop owner thought it was too little and I seriously wanted to sell.

"Let's see it then," he gestured to the counter space in front of him.

I carefully walked up and took out the container with my gold dust from my pocket.

He looked at it with a frowning face. "The fuck's this? Glitter? I don't buy glitter here."

I was so glad my scarf covered up my face, because I was sure it was completely red with how embarrassed I felt. "N-no, of course not!"

"I ain't a dump for random shit you pick up on the streets or leave lying around the house. This is a pawn shop, you hear? I take valuable used things you don't need anymore—_valuable_."

"This _is _valuable! It's—"

"You know how many idiots come in here every day thinking they can cheat me with bullshit hocus pocus garbage? Too many. Too fucking many. I don't have time to hear you give a story about how this is some ancient extinct bird poop," he said, shooing me away.

"…"

I stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. The shop was empty of other customers. How did he not have time to let me say anything?

"I-I'm not—"

He sighed and tossed something at me. I caught it by reflex. It was a dollar coin. "What?" I asked, not understanding.

"Kid, this is the best I can do. I've got to live too. Times are hard on everybody. Go back home, girl. Whatever reason you got for runnin' away, it ain't worth it. I've seen your lot more than a few times now. It never ends well. Trust me," he said.

There was silence for a few seconds. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. How could this guy just assume that I was a runaway? The shame and anger mixed together until I was sniffing and shaking. The worst part was that I could even imagine what he said. That kind of thing couldn't be too rare in Brockton Bay, and I completely messed up, getting intimidated as if I was desperate even though I really did have something valuable.

"I'm sorry I can't do more. I really am," he said with a real pitying face. It'd have been better if I thought he was trying to scam me. Damn it.

I handed the coin back to him with a trembling hand, and took my gold dust back without a word. I didn't trust myself to speak without breaking down.

Then I turned around and ran out of the shop.

I ran without any direction in mind. I just wanted to be alone. When I found an alleyway, I ducked in and stumbled to the wall.

I took my sunglasses and glasses underneath off, and wiped the tears from my eyes. My scarf was already wet and disgusting.

I was a loser. A failure. I couldn't even do something as simple as selling gold to a pawn shop without messing it up horribly.

God, why was it so hard to talk to people? Emma was right. I was just a loser that nobody could ever like—just pity, maybe, because of how pathetic I was.

"Hand over the money, and you won't have to get hurt," a voice came from behind me.

I turned to see a couple of dark blurry figures. I quickly put my glasses back on and they turned out to be guys in black cloth masks wearing hoodies and carrying baseball bats.

"I-I don't have any!" The fear in my voice was painfully obvious. I stepped back and stumbled again. I didn't have enough mana to cast another [_Heroism_]. Even if I did, the chant was too long. I'd never finish it in time, and the same was true of my other spells that I did have enough mana for—not that I'd even want to out myself as a cape.

"Don't bother denying it. We saw you coming out of the shop. Must have sold something good. Your parent's wedding ring, maybe?"

The two of them came closer and cornered me.

"I-I didn't sell anything, really! He didn't want it!" I squeaked out.

"Dumb bitch, you don't realize what kind of situation you're in?" One of them smacked his baseball bat against his palms in a threatening motion.

"Please, I-I r-really don't have a-any money!"

"Tch."

The punch came without warning. I gasped and clutched at my gut. It hurt so much! I couldn't even think anymore, my head was nauseous and I felt like throwing up. My back slid down the wall to the ground, and my knees hit the ground together.

The container in my hand naturally fell to the ground when I let go of it to grab my stomach.

"What's that?" The other guy picked it up. He opened it and poured some out onto his palm, showing it to his partner in crime.

"Huh…looks like angel dust. This bitch must have gotten the good stuff instead of cash," he said.

"Nah bro, isn't it too bright for that?"

"The fuck do you know? Gimme that." He swiped some of it and put it to his nose, snorting it in.

"Dude, couldn't you wait until we're done here?"

"Shit, this ain't TH man, it's not anything!" He coughed and blew his nose.

"Should've known, dude. No one ever said he was a dealer." With that, he tossed the plastic container away and shook the gold free from his hand.

I watched helplessly as my hope for the future was thrown away like yesterday's trash.

"You fucking useless bitch. Got scammed and don't even know it," he said. Then his hands came forward to grab me and I panicked. I tried to slap them aside but I wasn't strong to begin with and another punch, this time to my face, broke my resistance.

His hands patted me down and flipped out every pocket on me, finding nothing.

"God damn! Nothing!" He got up in frustration and the heel of his foot came down on my side as I was laying on the ground.

I yelped and curled into a ball.

The other guy shook his head as if freeing himself from a daze, and rubbed his nose. "Seriously? Nothing? Damn. Hey, it's a girl though, right? Maybe we can have some fun with her instead."

My eyes widened and I desperately scrambled aside, but the pain at my side and the dizzying nausea stopped me from moving more than a couple of feet.

"Fuck that. She doesn't even look like a girl. I'm done here, bro, you do whatever you want," the other guy said and left.

The guy who tried snorting the gold gave me a second look before shaking his head. "Yeah, guess not. Ugly whore…"

Soon, I was left in the alley with just the sound of my own sniffling and whimpering.

Saved by being too ugly. Another day in the life of Taylor Hebert.

I lay on the cold concrete, crying to myself.

I'd never amount to anything. How could I have ever thought about being a hero? It was just a fantasy. A delusion. I looked at the specks of gold dust splattered on the ground.

Glitter. That's what it really was, wasn't it? It was probably already on the filings before and I just didn't notice.

_Oh valiant warrior—_ha…haha...I was such a dork. Making up chants and casting spells. Acting like some kind of veteran all day…

Everyone knew that magic wasn't real.

Mana?

Must've just been an upset stomach or something.

What was I supposed to tell dad about my puffy and swollen face?

A few minutes later, I tried another spell.

"_Soothing light of life, take away the pain. Flower in the stream, floating bubbling strife. In the fall you crumple and in the spring you __**[Heal]**__!"_

The pain receded, my face went back to normal, and I sprang back up.

A/N: Poor Taylor. One day she will be a mighty Wizard, but for now she is really weak. Actually substantially buffed from how you start in the game (takes several _months_ to cast one spell), but still very weak.


	3. Baptism 1-3

**Baptism** **1.3**

I made it back home in one piece, but without my gold. I was angry and frustrated, but I calmed down after casting [_Heal_]. It was yet more proof that my power was real and I wasn't just delusional, because I couldn't imagine anything else being able to just make my swollen face go right back to normal like nothing happened from one second to the next.

So my power was real, and all the things I knew about it intuitively were probably accurate as well. There were so many things I could do with it, but all of that was in the future.

A future that would never come about if I didn't change first.

I hated myself. I hated being Taylor the loser, and after hearing Emma and her friends insult me so many times, I couldn't remember when exactly I started believing some of it. I mean, most of their insults were contradictory and made no sense, but ever since she betrayed me I felt like I hadn't achieved anything of worth, instead my grades were dropping, I had no friends left, and honestly what would you call someone who ate lunch in a bathroom stall everyday if not a loser?

And today, just seeing the difference between myself and the better version of me that [_Heroism_] brought that feeling to the fore.

The me without [_Heroism_] sucked.

I stared at the ankh decorating my altar. It was a recurring motif in the way my power expressed itself, and so of course I researched what it could possibly mean, from the altar to the floating sign above me, and designs for [Artifacts] I had in my head.

It was an ancient symbol that originated in Egyptian hieroglyphics, and meant life, especially the power to bestow life. It was prominently used in religious contexts, held in the hands of gods, though there wasn't anything else about my power that led me to think my power had anything to do with the Egyptian history, religion, or gods.

I also didn't have the power to just give life, unless you counted [_Heal_]. Instead, my power seemed to revolve around bringing out the _potential_ in life.

And if that was what it was meant to do, I also had to bring out my own potential.

[_Heroism_] wasn't just a simple enhancement. It was what I _could be_, if only I had the time and experience to reach that level.

And until I did reach that level, I would be keeping myself under its effect as much as possible. As soon as I had the mana for it again.

In the mean time, I had to start taking my ambition to be a hero more seriously. I knew for sure it was all real—that I was a cape, and I had to prepare myself properly.

The first thing to do was to take a closer look at what I knew about my powers and what I could do.

I closed my eyes, and thought about my spells. Soon, my [Spellbook] appeared in my mind's eye.

It was a white grimoire that flipped open, organized into categories of spells.

_**Spellbook**_

**Special**

_Special spells have non-standard casting requirements, incantations, targets, or effects, and they cannot be applied to enchanted items._

[_Magic Spirit_] - Target [Inactive Altar] - 0 MP

Summons a magic spirit to activate an Altar.

[_Summoning Circle_] – Target [Inactive Summoning Circle] – 0 MP

Activates a properly drawn summoning circle for use and links it to the caster.

[_Transmute_] - Target [Alchemy Material] - Variable MP

Transmute between the following materials:

Iron - Gold

Gold + Coal - Diamond *

Gold + Diamond + Rhodium + Silver - Mithril *

Electrum + Diamond + Mithril + Platinum + Chromium + Titanium + [Normal Unit] - Adamantium *

* Denotes currently unavailable.

[_Enchant Item_] - Target [Object] - Variable MP

Make a magical item with spell charges, unit enchantments, or grant an increase to attack/defense/speed/resistance. May be used by any [Normal Unit]. Cumulative increase to each basic stat cannot be greater than 3 from all magic items.

[_Create Artifact_] - Target [Special Object] - Variable MP

Make a powerful magic artifact that can boost spell effects and powers to a new level, serve as an altar for ritual or prayer purposes, and can boost more attributes, in addition to any features that can be enchanted on a magical item. May be used by any [Normal Unit] to variable degrees. Each [Normal Unit] can only have as many artifacts equipped as their soul capacity allows or they take continuous soul damage.

[_Champion Investiture_] - Target [Friendly Normal Unit] - 3000 MP

Elevate a worthy follower to sworn [Champion], investing them with great authority and power. Champions have their souls bound to you, generate their own mana to cast spells, and may serve as an altar for ritual and prayer purposes. The number of Champions is limited by soul capacity. Once sworn, the title may not be rescinded until death.

[_Recall Champion_] - Target [Champion] - 500 MP

Summons a [Champion] to your side instantly from anywhere.

[_Just Cause_] - Target [Self] - 150 MP, 5 MP/day

Affects perception of any person that interacts with or sees you such that they become more likely to believe that you have good intentions and that your actions are justifiable. [+1 charisma, +1 perceived Good]

**Unit Enchantment**

_Unit Enchantments last one day unless dispelled early. On enchanted items they apply a passive effect to the [Unit] equipping it._

[_Heroism_] - Target [Friendly Normal Unit] - 30 MP

The target becomes a seasoned elite. Has no effect on targets that are already elite. Bonus to each basic stat is capped to normalized elite value. [3 attack, 3 defense, 3 max health, 3 resistance, 2 speed, 2 morale].

[_Endure_] - Target [Friendly Normal Unit] - 30 MP

The target has enhanced stamina, durability, pain tolerance, and willpower to keep going despite overwhelming odds and fatal injuries. [+2 stamina, +3 max health, +2 morale]

[_Bless_] - Target [Friendly Normal Unit] - 25 MP

The target gains increased general resistance to curses and slow-acting negative effects. [+3 resistance]

**Combat Instant**

_Combat Instant spells produce a one-time effect. On enchanted items they become discrete spell charges that the equipped [Unit] can use without [Alignment] restrictions (other restrictions still apply)._

[_Heal_] - Target [Friendly Unit] - 15 MP

The target will heal from all minor physical injuries and illnesses. [+3 health]

[_Star Fires_] - Target [Fantastic Unit] - 15 MP

Blast the target with magical star fires [15 ranged magic attack]. Will not deal any damage to [Normal Units], but can be effective for destroying equipment or weakening magical protections.

**Combat Unit Enchantment**

_Combat Unit Enchantments have a continuous upkeep while active. On enchanted items they become an available time spell charge that can only affect the [Unit] equipping it when invoked._

[_Holy Armor_] - Target [Friendly Normal Unit] - 1 MP/min

Grants a protective light aura to the target that reduces damage taken, including damage from magical attacks. [+3 defense]

[_Holy Weapon_] - Target [Friendly Normal Unit] - 1 MP/min

Grants an offensive light aura to the target that changes any physical attack performed to magical and increases damage delivered. Magical attacks can hit and damage things otherwise intangible or immune to regular physical damage. [+2 attack] [Convert Melee/Ranged to Magic Attack]

**Combat Area Enchantment**

_Combat Area Enchantments have a continuous upkeep while active. On enchanted items they are stored as continuous capacity spell charge. Enlarging the area of effect increases mana upkeep._

[_True Light_] - 5 MP/min

Bathes the battlefield in the purest light of the White Realm. Slightly enhances all powers and creatures of light and suppresses all powers and creatures of darkness, chaos, and death. Affects all [Units] on battlefield.

**Summoning**

_Summoning spells summon things from the White Realm. They are always under the command of the caster but cannot be directly controlled, and have a continuous upkeep while summoned. When summons take too much damage, they are banished back to the White Realm until summoned again. On enchanted items, the spell binds and seals the summon into the item under the command of the holder to be called or resealed at any time, but if the summon is banished the item is destroyed._

[_Guardian Spirit_] - 300 MP, 10 MP/day

Summons a powerful guardian spirit from the White Realm. The spirit is incorporeal and may phase through solid objects. However, it can become corporeal to physically attack or be attacked by enemies. All [Friendly Units] within range of the spirit gain some resistance.

Guardian Spirit: [6 attack, 5 defense, 10 max health, 7 resistance, 2 speed]

Abilities:[+1 Resistance to Friendly] [Incorporeal]

My [Spellbook] gave me an incredible amount of information. I didn't think any other capes had powers that came with a guide, except maybe Tinkers. Of course, I could also qualify as a Tinker with the two Special spells for enchanting items and Transmute, so maybe that was why.

But it also didn't give me all the information. For example, although I saw how much mana each spell cost, I didn't have a number anywhere for my mana generation rate. The higher order transmutations were also unavailable with no explanation of how to make them available. That said, the [Normal Unit] that was required for Adamantium made that particular transmutation infeasible, no matter how powerful the metal was. I wasn't about to use living people as alchemy materials.

Looking at all my spells, it was clear that I was more suited to a support role, one that empowered others then persuaded them to pray to me and empower me in turn.

The only problem was, I was sure the PRT, and probably a lot of normal people, would look at me as the really dangerous sort of Master-Trump combination, and I couldn't just try to convince people to pray to me so overtly as my power demanded.

I had researched it, and there were a couple of famous precedents for this kind of thing that really scared people. Teacher got sent to the Birdcage when people found out his students didn't just get a minor power but also fell under his influence. Preacher was freakily similar to me with the religious angle, but I wasn't sure if he actually gave people powers. Not to mention all the other Masters that weren't Trumps. I couldn't name a single Master that had a good rep or was a hero.

Finally, that [_Just Cause_] was pretty obviously an actual Master effect. It might be minor and nothing like controlling other people, but when combined with the fact that people have to pray to me in order to receive my enchantments, it made things look really bad even if there was nothing insidious going on. I definitely couldn't let anyone know about it.

What all this meant was that I had to be very careful about how I presented my power, prayers, and my enchantments.

The one saving grace was that enchanted items didn't have the [Friendly Unit] targeting restriction. I could start with those, and eventually ease people that trusted me into praying to me. I could even sell some items for money and that might be even better than selling gold.

Like that, I continued planning throughout the evening, starting a notebook for that purpose and recording notes on aspects of my power that I had to figure out by myself.

Before I went to bed, I was in the bathroom in front of the mirror, looking at myself.

"I'm going to be a hero," I said.

"I can do this. I'm a smart, capable, and determined girl. And I'm growing smarter, more capable, and more determined every single day," I added.

I stared at the floating ankh above my head. It was no delusion. It was the symbol of my journey to—

_**Mirror**_

Taylor Hebert: [0 attack, 0 defense, 1 max health, 0 resistance, 0 speed]

Abilities: [****] [Administrative Intellectus] [Wizard]

Experience Level: **Non-Combatant (LV0)** 2/10 to **Recruit (LV1)**

Champions: None

Gold Reserve: Bankrupt (0g)

Mana Reserve: Barren (34 MP)

Power: ~90

Soul Capacity: 2

My eyes bugged out at the sudden information that appeared on the mirror in a bluish semi-transparent box overlaying my image.

My stats. All the zeros in my stats made it painfully clear how weak I was, being judged by my power as a Non-Combatant. But the second line caught my eye. Three abilities? By focusing on them, I received explanations for the two that weren't asterisks.

—_Administrative Intellectus: Automatically comprehends and organizes information about yourself and your followers into a mental interface._

So that was why information my power fed me was formatted so nicely. Was this somehow unique to me, if it had to be designated as its own ability?

—_Wizard: What distinguishes a Wizard from a mere caster of magic is the potential to control mana on a grand scale, and with a [Fortress], they may project their will and spells across huge areas or even entire planes. [Unlimited Mana Reserve Capacity]_

It's official, you're a Wizard, Taylor! Focusing on [Fortress] didn't provide any explanation, so I guess it was like the other spells I knew I could eventually learn somehow but which my power gave no clues on.

Other than that, the numeric representation of my mana reserve and power—which was approximate daily mana generation—were much more useful than my own vague sensing.

Now how do I gain experience? My power didn't have an answer.

* * *

A/N: So, one of the reasons I wrote this is to try my hand at the whole LitRPG thing. But in my story, the interface Taylor has doesn't warp reality to use dice rolls or anything like that. They're just abstractions and approximations for the actual reality, and sometimes won't even be fully accurate. For example, stats from experience are not given in discrete levels or only in whole numbers, and spell bonuses aren't always quantified.


	4. Baptism 1-4

**Baptism 1.4**

I reluctantly held off on casting [_Heroism_] on myself immediately the next morning in order to build up my reserve. It was a Saturday, so I didn't have to go to school and face the Trio, nor did I plan on try selling my gold again for a while.

After a night of intensive planning, I came to the conclusion that using up my mana to make money and increasing my Power should not be my main priority.

I had reviewed the specific MP costs of my spells and the way that the [_Enchant Item_] spell worked, then did some calculations which showed that simply making a bunch of enchanted items would be a lot more useful in the short term than increasing my mana generation directly.

All I had to pay for the process of enchanting itself was a base cost of 50 MP per item, with each item capable of being imbued with only one spell.

Each Unit Enchantment was a permanent passive effect when put on an item, and it only cost three times the regular cost. So, I could make a Ring of Heroism by spending just 140 MP, and it would return my investment after less than five days.

Each Combat Instant became a spell charge, and I could put a maximum of three spell charges on one item, with each charge costing three times the regular spell cost. But, the spell charges weren't just gone when they were used up. Instead, a used spell charge would have a one day cooldown before it could be used again.

The Combat Unit and Area Enchantments could hold a maximum of twenty times the spell cost per minimum time unit in capacity, but it slowly recharged continuously. A [_Holy Armor_] granting item could hold a capacity of 20 MP, which amounted to 20 minutes of use, and cost 60 MP plus the base 50 to enchant.

Basically every spell had a 3x cost when put on an item, but in exchange the effect was either permanent or recharged itself over time, while for summons the upkeep was gone.

Given the relative costs of my spells, it became clear that, as long as I was trying to target myself, using enchanting items to cast all spells except for the summons would be most efficient. The summon had a relatively low upkeep compared to the massive and multiplied upfront cost of enchanting, so it had a really low return on investment.

But I could guess at why it was like that. The summon itself was already a decent investment. The cost was high, but in return I'd get a powerful unit with stats that would take a human buffed with essentially all my spells to match, whose upkeep was already lower than the cost of any other spell. What would the point of putting a summon into an item be, anyway? I doubted the summon would appreciate getting stuffed into an inanimate object, if they could think for themselves.

Now, if I was trying to target somebody else, [_Heal_] was even better on an item because the [Friendly] restriction was removed, whereas the Unit Enchantments and Combat Unit Enchantments only worked for the wearer so I'd have to hand over my item.

Finally, I could add one of attack, defense, speed, or resistance to the item instead, at the price of 20 MP per point and a base enchanting cost of only 30 MP, adding up to 3 points on one item—which was also the maximum total bonus from _all_ equipped items, so there was no point in making weaker ones unless I was deliberately trying to hand out weaker versions.

In the other words, if I simply spent some time enchanting a lot of items, I would get a lot stronger and be able to cast way more spells without necessarily having any more Power.

So after telling my dad I was going to the library to study, I went out with my backpack to get some cheap low quality rings, necklaces, bracelets, and armlets. I could use all sorts of things for enchanting, but these were the easiest to hide and carry with me everywhere. Luckily my power wasn't uptight about using luxurious materials this time, any random item could be enchanted.

I also got some more crafting supplies, as part of a new plan I put together to try and get people to become followers. Since the items could be in any shape I wanted, I could keep different shapes and accessories for stuff I used for myself as opposed to things I handed out. That way I could keep my civilian identity hidden even as I equipped every single effect, and add a common theme to my stuff that I gave other people.

I had already made an armlet of Heroism by Sunday morning, and immediately put it on.

"You look like you're in a good mood today, Taylor. Had a good run?" My dad eventually asked me, breaking the silence of our breakfast.

I gave him a smile. "Yes. I feel great today, like I've made a lot of progress recently."

"Well…that's good to hear," he said.

The usual silence between us returned. I reaffirmed my decision in my mind and spoke up again.

"Hey, dad. I've got something important to tell you," I said with a serious face.

"Hm? Did something happen at school again?" He looked troubled.

"No. I think it'll be easier if I just showed you," I said. Then I rolled up my sleeves until my armlet was visible, and detached it. As the effect went away, I hesitated for a moment about what I was doing, but pushed forward.

"Try putting this on."

He looked at me and the armlet curiously. "What's this?" He asked, but he did as I suggested and put it on.

Then his face changed.

"Wow. What just happened?" His eyes darted around the room, and he flexed his muscles. Then his eyes found their way back to me with a focused look. It was unnatural seeing that kind of intensity on his face.

"You're a cape," he said, without any room for doubt. "A Tinker. And this…" He tapped the armlet. "Just made me smarter and stronger. That's incredible, Taylor."

"Not exactly. I mean, I am a cape, but I'm more than just a Tinker. And I'm not sure if that actually makes you smarter. I think it's more like experience, especially in fighting skills and quick thinking in dangerous situations," I said. "A-and, couldIhavethatback?" The last part came out as an embarrassing squeak.

"Oh, of course," he said, detaching the armlet. His face had a look of longing as he hesitated for a split second just like I did when I detached it, but he handed it back over without any fuss.

I felt much better once I had the armlet back on, and felt a sliver of guilt at taking the experience away from dad so quickly. I knew exactly what it felt like the first time I cast [_Heroism_]. I contemplated giving it back to him momentarily, but ultimately I realized that I could only even think about that while I had it on. Once I took it off again, I'd be back to the needy Taylor that would try to take it back as soon as possible.

"So, you're a cape. How long?" Dad asked, giving me a measuring look.

"I'm not entirely sure, but as best as I can tell, it was at some point after the locker," I said. Dad's face turned soured as soon as I mentioned the locker. I quickly continued. "There was a while when I didn't know if I was going crazy just imagining the things I could do. But a couple of days ago, I built my altar and confirmed that it was real, then I finished making the armlet this morning."

Dad's face opened and closed a few times, as if he had a lot of things to say but wasn't sure where to start.

"Taylor…I'm glad you told me right away. I'm really glad," he finally said.

I gave him an understanding smile. "You thought I might keep it a secret and try to go out as a hero by myself?"

He had a guilty look as his eyes turned down. "Sorry, it's just, you don't really tell me things anymore. Not that it's your fault, of course. It's my fault for not being a better father."

I took off my glasses, whose unnecessary correction was getting really annoying, then I took his hand and covered it with my palms. "Dad. You were willing to give me space, and I appreciate that more than anything else. Things were hard for me at school, and I was ashamed to talk about it with you. You shouldn't blame yourself for doing your best to support me."

He looked deeply into my eyes. "That's your new Tinkertech talking, isn't it? It's made you act more mature, but you wouldn't have said that without it."

"Dad, this is what I wanted to say for the past year and a half. I missed being able to talk with you. I just never had the courage to do anything about it. Now I do."

Slowly his lips moved into the shape of a smile. "Oh Taylor. I missed it too. I'm so sorry. I've been so out of it since, since your mother died, and I wasn't there for you at all, and then the locker happened and— " He began tearing up, then I moved over and hugged him.

"It's okay, dad. I forgive you. You're here, and I'm fine, now. That's all that matters," I whispered.

He tightly hugged me back.


	5. Baptism 1-5

**Baptism 1.5**

Dad looked over the altar curiously.

"So, these things collect energy, and when people pray to you near them, you get even more energy? Which you can then use to do some nifty things, or make nifty Tinkertech? Is that about right?"

"Yeah."

"And you're worried the PRT and general public will be scared if they think the people praying to you get Mastered."

"Yeah."

"_Do _they get Mastered?"

"I don't think so."

He scratched his head.

"Well, how does the praying work? Is there anything specific that needs to be said or done?"

"It doesn't matter what you ask for in the prayer, or if you ask for anything at all, or how you say it. It just has to be a thought specifically directed towards me, the altar, or an idea or title that unambiguously represents me, and has to be in the form of a prayer—a request for help or blessing—or just saying that you believe in me."

"Well, Taylor, I definitely believe in you," he said with chuckle. "You're going to make me proud."

A small white ankh icon with a green outline appeared over his head. He became a [Friendly Unit]. I glanced up at my own floating marker until my stats appeared again, to see that my Power was flickering between ~92 and ~93. With these numbers, I'd need a _lot_ of followers to make a big difference.

"So did it work?" Dad asked, oblivious to the stat window, and apparently not able to see my ankh marker either.

I nodded.

"Well that was easy. Do you get more energy if I keep 'praying'?" He asked making air quotes, as if holding back a grin.

"Yes. Devout followers are more valuable than those that don't ever pray after the first time," I said. My power informed me then that when a [Friendly Normal Unit] prayed non-stop, they could provide an estimated increase in Power of anywhere between 50 to 200 for the duration of the praying. So at the higher end, that was double the basic rate the altar gathered mana for me naturally, if they prayed the whole 24 hours. Yeah, a devout follower was _way_ more valuable than somebody who just added a couple of points each day. Not like anyone was going to pray 24 hours straight, but just half an hour of prayer might be equivalent to a full [Friendly Normal Unit]'s passive contribution. Half an hour might sound like a long time for one person to be praying, but if it was in the form of say, a church-led service, then it could easily run an hour long or more.

"Valuable, huh? Do you need donations too?" He asked jokingly, and I laughed.

"As a matter of fact, I could really use donations of gold and silver…"

He raised an eyebrow. Then he looked at the altar a bit more closely. His fingers ran over the offering plate.

"Taylor…where did you get the gold to make this…?"

Even with my [_Heroism_], I still felt embarrassed. "Um…I found it?"

He looked unimpressed, tapping the plate with his finger.

"Okay, I took apart some old stuff that was in the attic."

"Kiddo, the only gold and silver things we have in the house belonged to your mother."

I looked down. "I know. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just had to build the altar. I can't do anything without it."

He sighed and patted me on the head.

"Nevermind, Taylor. I've heard of this kind of thing happening to Tinkers. Some kind of fugue state? They get the urge to build things and forget everything else."

I didn't have the heart to correct him. I wasn't sure exactly, if that was what happened either. The altar was just the first thing I had to build, and I was desperate to confirm whether I had real powers. Was I being driven by my power like other Tinkers were?

It honestly didn't seem that way, when I made the Armlet of Heroism. I just took a random armlet, prepared my mana into the proper formations, drew a magic circle, did some motions in front of the altar, chanted a _language I didn't recognize_—what?

Wow.

I just realized that I did a bunch of things while enchanting the item that I didn't even consciously notice.

After that, we had the inevitable conversation about what I was planning to do.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the Wards? If you're upfront and honest about how your power works, I don't think they'd have a problem with it. You don't even _have_ to tell them. From the sounds of it, you can just keep making your Tinkertech if you have the materials, right? You'd get paid as a Ward, so you could use that to get the gold and silver you need. No need to say anything about praying," he said as we walked back downstairs.

"I haven't fully decided yet. Before this morning, I didn't know how the energy collected from prayers compares. It would make a lot of sense to join the Wards for the resources they can give me, but in the long-term, it might limit what I can do. My powers can still grow. A lot. I don't know exactly what it would look like yet, but I know its going to need orders of magnitude more energy, and there's a limit to how much energy I can collect naturally without prayers, or building the buildings."

"Building the buildings?" Dad looked taken aback, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

"Right, I forgot to mention that. I can collect a lot more energy if I build a proper shrine or temple."

"Oh…okay. That's a very strange power you have. Don't think I've heard of a cape architect before. But you know what, these all seem like they'd only be a problem long into the future. Couldn't you just quit the Wards then if it really doesn't work out? And, most importantly, you'd be safer. I'd be less worried if you had professional support."

I thought carefully about what he suggested, and found that there was some truth to it. Why had I been so against joining the Wards?

Putting aside whether it was possible to quit—and I didn't see why not—there weren't really many real disadvantages I could think of yet. Of course, I didn't know all that much about how the program worked, so it could be better or worse than it sounded in my head.

I'd get money and resources, training, a team—oh. A team.

The Wards were a group of teenagers that I would have to get along with. And I would have a boss.

On the one hand, a team was helpful, shoring up my weaknesses, and I could power them up. But on the other, I had to _get along_ with them, a bunch of superpowered teens with superpowered drama, I imagined. What if it would be like school all over again?

Well, I could handle it, with [_Heroism_], probably. At least, I could put up with unlikeable teammates to get the job done.

My dad must have took my silence to mean I was resisting the idea.

"Kiddo, why don't we look into it first before making the decision? We can both do some research on it, maybe reach out and get a contract to look at, that sort of thing."

I nodded my agreement. I had been planning to do that anyway.

* * *

When Monday rolled around, I was back at school, and things were surprisingly quiet. The girls that usually gossiped loudly about me gave me looks but didn't actually do anything, and there weren't even spitballs coming my way.

At lunch, I did the same thing as last time and went up to the roof.

I was having a peaceful lunch when midway through I heard giggling coming from the door to the stairs. It turned out to be a couple sneaking up here to make out, and they went back into the stairs when they noticed me.

Ten minutes before the lunch period was over, I heard very light footsteps coming towards me. I had barely noticed it getting close to me with the strong winds on the roof, and turned with slight alarm, but I didn't show it on my face.

"Hebert. So this is where you went." And there she was, the most violent one among my tormentors, Sophia Hess. But she was alone where I would have expected to see at least Emma as well.

"Do you really have nothing better to do than to follow me around?" I asked, wiping my mouth and closing my now empty lunchbox.

Her eyes watched my every movement like a hawk. Then she glanced around as if looking for anyone eavesdropping or watching from afar.

When she was satisfied that nobody was around, her lips curled into a smirk.

I was getting dangerous vibes from this strangeness, and quickly put away my lunchbox before standing up.

"What do you want, Sophia?" My prescription glasses had been replaced with non-refracting fashion glasses over the weekend, and the intensity of Sophia's gaze on me had me wondering if she had noticed the difference in refraction.

Suddenly she dashed forward and I had but a fraction of an instant before she was on me, a punch whizzing past my face as I leaned to the right. My hand was already swinging up to catch her extended arm, but she retracted it like a proper fighter would, and smoothly switched to a punch from her other hand toward my gut.

I positioned my own hand directly in its path after throwing away my lunchbag to the ground, hoping to stop whatever craziness had gotten into Sophia, but her smirk grew wider and the punch turned out to be a feint as she turned it into a grapple for my hand and followed into a sideways kick once her grip was on mine.

I bent diagonally in the same direction the kick was going. The kick went flying overhead, while my leg swept toward her other leg to trip her.

She pushed away from my hand and jumped backwards, and I let her go as I swung back around after my spinning sweep.

I watched her regain her footing, and kept my muscles tensed, ready for further action, while my mind tried to figure out what she was trying to accomplish. A prolonged conflict couldn't be good for me, as I didn't want to show too much of my newfound skills, but I was on the roof and couldn't rule out Sophia having gone crazy and actually trying something seriously dangerous. She had, after all, shoved me into the locker and I almost died from that.

"I knew it. You're different from before," she said, straightening herself out.

So it was a test. That was even more dangerous. Did she already suspect something?

"And if I am? What's it to you?"

"Emma always said you had it in you. Never woulda guessed she was right with how weak you acted," she said, her tone almost appreciative. This was getting seriously weird.

"What are you talking about? Have what in me?"

"What it takes to be one of the strong. There're two kinds of people in this world, and it shows when they face something truly terrible," she started dramatically, gesturing to the city underneath us, walking to the edge of the roof. "There are those that just keep letting the world shit on them. Those are the prey. And there are the ones like you and me, that fight back and realize they're the ones that should be on top. The predators. I guess you really are one of us. Took you long enough to wake up," she said, turning to face me again, leaning back against the protective railing.

"So you think I'm like you, and now you're just going to act like everything you did to me was perfectly normal? Like the law of the jungle?" I asked her.

"Not the law of the jungle. Just how the world works," she said, shrugging. She hoisted herself onto the railing and sat precariously on the edge. "And that stuff we did was all Emma. I didn't give a damn about you. You think I would care about some weak girl that had nothing to do with me? It's like you asked me, don't I have better things to do? 'Course I do. But Emma wanted to prove that you belonged with us. Too bad none of it worked. Probably 'cause of Emma, herself, am I right? Everyone has a weakness like that. You cared too much about her," she said without a hint of guilt or shame.

I stood there in silence for a few seconds.

Then I picked up my lunch bag and walked away.

There was only one thing she was right about.

Emma.

I cared too much.

When I opened the door to the stairs, Sophia's voice reached me again.

"If you want to stay a loner, fine by me. But word of advice, newbie. We aren't the only predators in school, and if you're not gonna hang with us, I'm not going outta my way to keep protecting you no matter what Emma says. So watch yourself and stop being so obvious. It's not against the rules if you don't bother to hide it."

Her final words stopped me cold.

"What do you m—" I started to ask as I turned around, only to blink as she wasn't there anymore. My eyes grew wide as I looked in every direction, then I went back out onto the roof and leaned over the railing.

She was gone without a trace.


	6. Baptism 1-6

**Baptism** **1.6**

I walked through the hallways to my next class, barely able to control myself from giving every passerby a second look.

My instincts were jumping at me to identify the threat that Sophia implied, these other "predators" in the school, which contradicted with the need to stay lower key.

The meeting on the roof kept replaying itself in my mind, as I analyzed it for every detail.

Knowing the truth—was it really the truth?—behind Emma's betrayal didn't make me feel any better, as I used to think it would. In fact, it made me feel more angry.

I wondered if it was even worth confronting Emma over it. I didn't know what to do about her. There was a part of me that still wanted to know just what made her start to think that way, what gave her the idea that bullying me would prove that I was strong?

And the worst part of it was that it was somehow kind of _right_. Although Sophia mistakenly thought that something else had changed me, I was 90% sure that it was the locker incident that unlocked my powers, which meant that Emma's absurd plan actually worked, and I had an ominous feeling about Sophia's speech on predators waking up when facing something truly terrible.

If I took her words at face value, it sounded like the ramblings of a psycho. But underneath the surface, I couldn't shake the feeling that "predator" was a metaphor for something else.

A cape.

It was the most obvious answer, and I wasn't just saying that because I actually was a cape.

I didn't think it was just my own bias leading me to that answer, not when Sophia herself inexplicably disappeared from the roof like that.

A normal person couldn't do that. I mean, maybe she could've jumped over and climbed into a window, but I was quite sure that she was giving me a message, on top of her warning.

She knew I was a cape, and was warning me of the consequences for not being part of their little clique, because _she_ was a cape too—and I was a newbie that didn't even realize who else had powers in this school and who else was a threat to me, when _she_ saw through _me_ so easily.

It was a show of force, in a way. As if saying, 'I can fight you evenly without even any powers, but you're obviously using powers. If I were using my powers, you wouldn't even see me coming.' That was probably why she snuck up on me too at the beginning.

It wasn't true, of course. I was holding back, and had only one enchantment on me. If I stacked all of my buff spells, or summoned the Guardian Spirit, it'd be a completely different story.

But it didn't change the fact that from _her_ perspective, I wasn't so impressive, and I had to admit I had no idea what her power even was, if she was a cape like I thought, and maybe she really could wipe the floor with me.

And it would explain the feeling I got from her that was lacking in everyone else—that _potential_ that I knew I could extract with a ritual.

Unless I was totally overthinking it.

Wasn't it more reasonable to think that I had been secretly practicing martial arts? That was what I had thought, but maybe that was my own wishful thinking talking. If she was a cape, she might be better able to see the signs, signs that maybe I didn't realize I was showing, or maybe _because_ she was a cape, she automatically assumed other people that could fight well were capes too because she was biased like that.

And if "predator" was a code word for cape, did that mean Emma and Madison were capes too, and for some reason my power just hadn't detected their power in the form of the potential, or some other reason I couldn't use them for the ritual?

In the end, it just made things more complicated. I still couldn't report any of their bullying or the sudden assault because there was no evidence, according to the school, and if Sophia really was a cape, she might be threatening the teachers somehow. She also said she wouldn't "keep protecting me", as if she had been doing it all along. So who was she threatening not to come after me before, when I wasn't even a cape then?

And what were the rules she mentioned?

I shuffled into my World Issues class when it was three quarters full. More students came in even as the bell rang, but Mr. Gladly was in no rush to get started even though it was technically time.

The late ones gave him half hearted apologies and he waved them to sit down. Mr. Gladly was one of those teachers that tried to be cool, having students call him Mr. G, taking time to chat with the popular kids, assigning more group work so they could hang out with their friends, and even ending class early or starting a bit late after lunch to be "understanding".

Madison came by and gave me a weak smile which turned stiff when I gave her a disturbed look, and she took a seat behind me as usual.

"Today, we'll be looking at a question that's been puzzling people ever since cape powers appeared. Where do they come from? Does anyone want to volunteer any of your own ideas? We can make a list on the board and see how they compare to what the experts think."

When Mr. Gladly talked about capes, he was especially animated, and the class was listening closely. It wasn't just him, most students were fascinated by capes, and secretly wanted to have powers of their own, and I was no exception—then I actually got them, and I was equally curious.

I waited for other students to volunteer some ideas. I had long since given up on trying to contribute in this class, as Mr. Gladly always picked the popular students to answer, as if that would help him fit in with the popular crowd himself.

I would have told him to grow up, but if you looked at his appearances, you could mistake him for a high school student with how young and short he looked.

"A DNA mutation!"

That got a nod and a quick scribble on the board from Mr. Gladly. "Thanks for being the first to volunteer Joe."

"When an athlete or genius breaks past some kind of limit, they get powers."

"Very good, Julia, we call that the exceptional person hypothesis so that's what I'll write down here," he said.

"They come from Scion."

"That's another popular theory," said Mr. Gladly. "Good, Zach."

There were only a couple more hands. He took one look one of them and glanced away. That was Greg Veder, who sat beside me and was a known cape geek and a nerd. He never gave up on trying to share his ideas even though Mr. Gladly obviously didn't care for them.

"Madison," Mr. Gladly decided easily.

"You have to have the potential, first. It's genetic, but not everyone unlocks it. Then, under very strong emotions, the strong ones unlock their potential."

There it was again, as if Madison was repeating Sophia's earlier words to me. My suspicions seemed to be getting more accurate by the minute. Sophia was a cape, and she knew how people got powers. Emma and Madison were either capes themselves, or had learned from Sophia how people got powers.

And Emma…had been trying to make me into a cape by bullying me. And it fucking worked.

Damn her!

Just when I finally had something that was all mine, that made me worth something, Emma was going to steal credit for it again?

"Well, I could actually put that down as two different theories that have been floated around by experts. Genetic inheritance, and traumatic trigger."

My pencil snapped in half when my anger got the better of me for an instant. The cracking sound caused a bunch of heads to turn my way.

Mr. Gladly gave me a frown. "Taylor, what have I said about disrupting class?"

"Sorry, Mr. G. My pencil just broke. It must have been defective," I said, picking up the pieces and getting another pencil out.

"It's true, Mr. G, she didn't do it on purpose. She was just trying to take notes," Madison's voice came from behind me.

Mr. Gladly looked surprised at Madison's defense of me. That surprised was shared by me and a bunch of other people in class, who started whispering.

I snuck a quick look around with my peripheral vision. Julia, one of my other tormentors, and a couple of her friends had dark looks on their faces, but they didn't turn to Madison, as if they knew all along what Madison was going to say.

"Uh! yeah! She was totally trying to take notes, like super focused on listening to the class," Greg decided to add suddenly.

I looked at him strangely and he gave me a thumbs up with a wide smile, and I mouthed a thanks.

Then I looked to Madison, who resolutely refused to meet my eyes.

"Oh. Well, okay then, if that's what happened, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, Taylor. Let's continue," said Mr. Gladly.

At the end of class, Madison rushed out before I could confront her privately. I rushed after her immediately.

"Hey, Taylor—" Greg tried to talk to me, and I gave him an apologetic wave, "Sorry, got something I need to do before next class!"

Greg wasn't a bad guy, but he could be annoying sometimes. He never helped me in public before, and I was guessing that the only reason he did it today was because for some reason Madison was supporting me too, and he could safely agree with one of the popular girls.

He had tried more than a few times to talk to me, and out of politeness and appreciation that he at least tried, I had a few awkward conversations with him before. But when it came down to it, he was just like all the rest of the students that never stepped in when I was being bullied. Disappointing. I had the distinct impression that he thought we were both losers that should stick together, except he didn't actually stick by me when it counted, making excuses to leave when Emma and her cohort approached.

Only now when it was easy did he bother to do anything, so I didn't feel bad about cutting him off to chase my quarry. There was a ten minute break before we had to get to the next class, and Mr. G let us out early, as usual, so I was going to find out why Madison was acting almost friendly to me.

Madison looked back to see me coming toward her and sped up. I did the same.

Then she ducked into a stairwell, but with a run that would have made the hall monitor yell at me if she'd been there to see it, I swiftly caught up to Madison just as she went out the exit doors to the pavement outside.

I grabbed her shoulder and called her name.

She twitched like I was a jump scare and turned around with frantic eyes.

"Wh-what is it, Taylor?" She said, holding her binders closer to her chest.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked, walking closer to her with narrowed eyes. "Why did you help me today?"

"Nothing! Don't worry about me, I won't bother you anymore, I swear!" She stepped backwards timidly as I approached.

"You're being awfully suspicious. I thought you three enjoyed making my life miserable. Is this another trick?"

"No, no!" She shook her head vigorously. "Completely serious."

I couldn't keep the disbelieving look off my face. Why was everyone acting so strangely today? I had to get to the bottom of this, and I was sure it had to do with the things Sophia told me earlier. How many people already knew I was a cape, and what role did Madison and Emma play in this "predator" business?

"You think I'd believe that, after what you did to me? After you almost killed me in the locker?"

"W-wait, I didn't have anything to do with that! It was all Emma and Sophia!" She backed herself against the wall.

"Why are you scared of me all of a sudden?"

She swallowed. "I'm not scared," she said, contradicting her obvious body language. Her eyes darted around as if looking for an escape.

"Yes, you are. You know something, don't you? What is it? What do you know?!"

"I don't know what you mean!" She said in a high pitched voice.

"Sophia attacked me today," I said, watching for her reaction.

"What?" She had a look of genuine surprise.

"A test. To see if I could join your little group," I elaborated.

"Oh," she said, surprise giving away to understanding, as if my clarification was a perfectly logical explanation. She knew.

My eyes narrowed.

"So you three are all _predators_? _You're_ a predator, Madison?"

Her face pale. "Y-yeah."

"You don't sound sure of that."

"I am!" She said, desperation in her voice.

"Really? I think you're lying. But you _wish _you were, don't you?," I said.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened. "I-I…"

"Sophia must have told you a few things about it, about how to become one? So you can be different and better than everyone else that's just—what did she call them—_prey_?"

She winced.

"And she's been protecting you while you pretend to be a _predator_. Emma too, am I right?"

"You can't tell them that, please!"

"You're lucky Madison. You have no idea what it's really like. Do you know I almost _died_ in there? I was suffocating, nauseous, puking, and getting slowly eaten alive by insects. The doctors said I was catatonic for a week. Maybe I came out stronger, but I wouldn't have wished that on anyone. And here you are, wishing for it."

"N-no, I'm sorry!" She was shaking, her fingers clutching her binders were turning white with tension. "I-I had no choice! If they think I'm not one of them, if I go against them, I would be next! They're psycho!"

"So why the change of heart then? Why risk helping me now?"

"It-it was Emma! She told me to be nice to you, because if you passed Sophia's test you could be her friend again! I swear to god it's true, I'm not making this up!"

I stared at her unblinkingly, expression blank as I reviewed what I had found out. Everything was becoming clear to me.

There was some kind of underground cape society right in school, with Sophia and Emma leading one group.

That summer, Emma must have become a cape and met Sophia. She wanted me to be part of them, but it was against the "rules" that Sophia mentioned. I still didn't know what they were, but it was obvious that they had something to do with hiding our powers and not talking about it openly—hence the code words _predators_ for capesand _prey_ for non-capes.

So Emma came up with a plan to make me into a cape, except it didn't work very well, so she kept trying worse things until the locker incident.

It all starting to make sense now, why nobody else ever helped me, why the administration looked the other way.

There were other capes in school, other groups, who were staying away because Sophia and Emma had 'marked' me as theirs. The school might be either in on the whole thing, as part of a bigger gang trying to foster capes out of Winslow, or maybe they were scared of the students. Like Sophia, who was somehow on the track team and favoured by teachers even though everyone knew she got into fights outside of school and sometimes in school where the teachers couldn't see.

I always wondered why there were so many villains compared to heroes. If there were a lot more capes than the public knew, with school bullying making a perfect breeding ground for more capes, then it would make sense that more capes end up turning to villainy. The Protectorate and military obviously couldn't use such methods. Well maybe the CIA and NSA did, in offshore bases like Guantanamo Bay, as highly classified programs. I remembered reading something about mind control experiments back in the 50s and 60s, so it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility.

Before I could decide what to do next, Madison slunk down and started tearing up.

"Oh god, d-don't hurt me, please! I'll do whatever you want! J-just don't hurt me! I never wanted to be part of it, I'm not a predator! I know it's hard to believe and everything sounds stupid, but it's true! Sophia and Emma are both crazy, but they can get away with everything and I can't do anything about it or I'd be next! The school always takes their side and even the gangers don't try anything with them!"

"You know who the gang members are?" I asked. More facts lining up.

"Y-yeah, like Frank, he's E88, or Jun, he brings a knife to school everyday. And I h-heard some of the seniors are _full members_," she emphasized the last two words as if they were terrifying secret. "I'm f-from a normal family and w-we can't afford to transfer to Immaculata, Arcadia wouldn't accept me and Clarendon is too full, or I would never have stayed past the first month!"

As much as I hated her, I began to pity her. I couldn't keep her in my mind as that monstrous bully when the positions had practically reversed and she was turning out to be almost as much a victim as me. And I still didn't know why she was so scared of me now, but it didn't look like I'd get anything more out of her.

Who was to blame for all this?

Something was rotten in the school of Winslow.


	7. Baptism 1-7

**Baptism 1.7**

Whatever was going on in this school, it was clear that Sophia had given me decent advice. Continuing to be alone wouldn't be wise, when everyone else had grouped up and I would become that much more attractive a target.

I could hate Sophia as much as I wanted, but that didn't mean I could be foolish enough to ignore useful information, especially when she and Emma apparently wanted me to join them and were tossing me a bone.

And that led me to an idea.

If I was planning to make Brockton Bay great again, why not start with my school?

Before, I thought nothing could be done about the situation, the school administration being wilfully ignorant and corrupt, but if the problem was related to capes…well I was a cape now too. I could change that.

So it was with that in mind that I bent over and lifted Madison's head up to face me.

She froze at my touch and stared with wide eyes.

"You said you'll do whatever I want?"

"J-just not g-going against Sophia or Emma! A-anything else!"

I let go of her head.

"Then listen carefully. First, repent and ask me to forgive your sins. Ask me to bless you with mercy. And be sincere about it."

She swallowed and nodded. "I'm sorry, please forgive my sins and bless me with mercy."

The floating ankh appeared over her. I curiously looked at her stats.

Madison Clements: [0 attack, 0 defense, 1 max health, 0 resistance, 0 speed]

Experience Level: **Non-Combatant (LV0) **6/10 to **Recruit (LV1)**

"Good. I'll tell you what I want from you later. Before that…" I took her right hand in mine and placed it over her heart.

"You need to be stronger. So I'll make you strong, and you won't have to pretend anymore."

"Wh-what do you mean? Don't hurt me!" She squealed with a panicked look. I ignored her protest and leaned in to whisper the words of power.

"_Noble faith and diamond heart, eight stairs to the sun that rises, the light beckons and you __**[Endure]!**__"_

She gasped and shuddered, staring at me with shock. "Is…is this…"

"You can test how tough you are later. It's almost time for next class. Better get going, Madison." With that, I left her still there, still staring uncomprehendingly at me as I went back through the doors to the stairs.

* * *

My final class for the day was Computers, taught by Mrs. Knott. She was a tall, broad-shouldered and strong jawed woman. She looked very disconcerting with her long blonde hair and trying too-hard-to-be-girly dress and blouse, because of her masculine features. But she was an alright teacher though. She usually gave assignments for advanced students work on by themselves and focused on handling the rambunctious remainder of the class or just let everyone do their own thing.

I liked this class the most of all my classes. Not just because Mrs. Knott was a decent teacher, but also because usually nobody bothered me here. Emma, Madison, Sophia, none of them were in this class, and there weren't any of their usual clique, except a few of the hangers-on that didn't initiate anything on their own.

I was also good at it. I usually finished the work early and had time to surf the web on my own, and Mrs. Knott didn't mind.

And that was what I did today.

As discussed with dad, I was going to seriously look at the Wards as an option. So I looked up the publically available information on their official website. There wasn't any need to hide this sort of thing. Everyone was fascinated by capes, and people looked up stuff about them all the time. There were also plenty of posers that told their friends they thought they might have a power and got them all researching ways to "confirm" it. I'd seen it right in this class, when a bunch of guys were huddled over one guy's screen whispering loudly about joining the Wards or a gang, or when one guy was demonstrating his "powers" using card tricks.

Joining the Wards wasn't hard. They had a hotline you could call, or a form to leave your contact details so they could provide information to arrange an interview.

According to the website, the purpose of the Wards was to help young capes learn to use their powers safely, and get some experience to know what it's like being a hero, if they want to join the Protectorate eventually. There was power testing, physical training, lessons on capes and crime-fighting, and it could even be used as credit in schools similar to co-op programs.

They were paid a minimum wage salary plus a $50,000/year trust. Well the trust wasn't that useful to me, since I couldn't access it until I was eighteen or going to college, which meant that I couldn't use it to buy gold. It'd almost completely cover my college costs for any state school if I joined now, and I was going to college if only to honor my mom, who had been an English professor, but it wasn't going to do anything for my immediate issues.

A minimum wage salary, with part-time hours...if I saved up everything, I might be able to build one altar in a month or two. That was disappointing.

Wards also had to keep up a minimum grade in school and continue to attend during regular hours, albeit with the PRT able to call them out for work if needed. Or woken up at night. But they also had to be a full night's sleep on a regular basis.

And they weren't obligated to fight either. Combat was strictly optional, and parents should feel comfortable knowing that patrols were in safe areas of the city protected by Protectorate heroes.

My dad would like that. I didn't. The way it was described here, it didn't even sound like a serious hero group, if they weren't supposed to fight the villains.

There wasn't any information on the stuff I really wanted to know, like quitting, resources for Tinkers, equipment/costuming, and whether the PRT would buy Tinkertech or specific power services like healing.

Quitting wasn't mentioned. Tinkers got "resources and pre-approved safe materials to work with". The website said that Wards would get a costume, but didn't specify what the equipment features were. I guessed that it was expected that I'd contribute any Tinkertech and powers if I joined as part of being on their payroll.

On the Protectorate pages, I found that Tinkers got a general Tinkering budget, which was based on their power's requirements, performance, and seniority on the team. Requests could be made for getting the materials to make specific equipment on a case-by-case basis.

There was a section for rogues, which was vague and only asked rogues interested in doing business with the PRT to register for affiliation and contact their procurement department. That seemed like something I should look into. Getting paid minimum wage was not enough for me to be handing out any items to the PRT.

I wondered if I could sell my stuff to other organizations instead. Not villain groups, of course, but hospitals could use healing, and my Unit Enchantments could be useful to the military and police. More research I'd have to do.

Time passed quickly and class ended.

I used to rush straight to my locker and leave school as fast as possible to avoid the Trio. I wasn't going to do that today, but on account of Sophia's warning, I decided to avoid swaggering around like I owned the halls, which I realized I had been doing subconsciously since the first time I showed up to school with [_Heroism_] until lunch today.

To the untrained, it might not sound like much of a big difference, but I knew that posturing mattered a lot when projecting the image of strength or weakness.

For example, girls and guys have a very different natural style of walking. Every person's gait was unique, but it was very noticeable when a girl walks like a guy and vice versa.

I was reminded of this by Mrs. Knott, actually. One of the reasons she seemed so disconcerting to me, after seeing her walk around the class a few times, but her gait, I had realized. In contrast to her dress and blouse, she strutted about and sat without much concern for protecting her modesty. Even the beautiful and promiscuous girls would subconsciously turn their feet and knees slightly inward, lift their legs and maintain balance in a way that was marked differently from guys.

These were ingrained behaviours that were only lost when women were trained, highly athletic, or just tomboys, because they were hallmarks of femininity and something girls naturally learned as they grew up.

Because I happened to be pretty tall and also gained some muscle with [_Heroism_], when I started walking with a pronounced rotation of the shoulders and sweeping legs motions, then moved straight forward with purpose, the effect was pretty dramatic. Not just because it wasn't like most girls, but because that was the kind of walk that people tended to step aside for, which is probably why Sophia said I was being too obvious.

So now I kept my movements simple and avoided looking at anyone judgmentally, keeping with the flow of crowds as much as possible.

Soon I arrived at my locker, where lo and behold, Emma was waiting with a genuine smile, and Sophia was leaned back against the lockers with her arms crossed.

Madison stood beside Emma and just sort of stared at me, though I could see that she had lost her earlier timidity.

"Taylor! You finally did it. It took so long that I was beginning to worry, but I never stopped believing in you!"

I almost choked when the ankh appeared over her and recognized her as a [Friendly Unit], just like that.


	8. Baptism 1-8

**Baptism 1.8**

Almost reflexively, I looked at her stats.

Emma Barnes: [2 attack, 1 defense, 1 max health, 3 resistance, 0 speed]

Experience Level: **Regular(LV2) **41/60 to **Veteran(LV3)**

Abilities: [Doublethinker] [BUD-DISPERSION]

_Faith is very high. Potential Champion candidate._

_Energy rating is low. Ineligible for Investiture. Increase level to raise energy rating._

—_Doublethinker: Can hold two or more contradictory opinions or beliefs without mental degradation._

—_BUD-DISPERSION: BUD CONNECTION::DISPERSION_WARRIOR. STATUS-IDLE._

I shoved the shock down as I saw her stat panel. I reminded myself to take a look at dad's stats as soon as he got home. I'd forgotten to try that, and I really needed to know what the baselines were for normal people.

How were her stats and experience level so high? Compared to me without and Madison's unbuffed stats, she would trounce us. She could actually fight. Plus, her resistance was unnaturally high for her level. I wasn't sure what exactly resistance did, but it made little sense for the two levels to Regular to boost resistance to 3 when the average Elite was also 3 according to the information on [_Heroism_].

This [Doublethinker] didn't sound like a cape power. I'd read 1984, and knew what it meant, even without my power explaining it to me. How in the world did Emma get this ability? Had she been indoctrinated somehow? Or worse, Mastered? But then again…Madison didn't have any Abilities, but seemed to think both Sophia and Emma were capes, so maybe it was a weird Thinker power, and she could do more that my power didn't tell me.

Then there was the [BUD-DISPERSION]. That description was the single most unhelpful line my power had provided since the [****]. Were these malfunctions in my power? Why was it in all caps and weirdly formatted?

The words bud and connection were giving me bad vibes. It kind sounded like she was infected with an unnatural growth inside of her that had a connection to something or someone called Dispersion Warrior that was dispersing spores everywhere. The only comfort was that it was apparently idle, for now.

Emma frowned with a concerned expression. "Are you alright, Taylor?" She came up and waved her hand in front of my face. I had taken too long reading her stats.

"I'm fine. Emma…" I started but trailed off. This Emma was so different from what I had gotten used to that I really didn't know what to say.

"Sophia told me you were strong enough to pass her test, but you left without a word after. You must have gotten the wrong impression," she said.

"Then what impression was I supposed to get?"

"You're a survivor now, just like us. So we can be friends again," she gave me a dazzling smile.

I flinched. The memories of my cheerful best friend superimposed on this evil monster was giving me goosebumps.

"What's wrong with you? You can't just do horrible things to me for a year and suddenly say that you want to be friends again. You betrayed me!"

Her smile cracked. "Sorry, Taylor, but I had to. If you'd just fought back sooner I wouldn't have had to keep it up for so long. But it's all over now, right? You're strong now."

"So it's _my_ fault for not fighting back? You don't think there's anything wrong with your logic?" I gave her the most incredulous expression I could muster.

"But what else was I supposed to do? That's how predators wake up. By surviving and fighting back. And after Annette died, you were in such a funk. You were acting like a weak victim and I had to help you become strong again."

"By destroying mom's flute, my last memento of her? It isn't weak to mourn someone you love. It's human nature. It takes real strength to face the truth and admit your deepest feelings. You didn't help me become strong, Emma. You took away everything good in my life," I said, my voice rising with anger. She was still acting like she did the right thing. The more I heard, the harder it was to blame anyone or anything but her. Indoctrinated, Mastered, or just plain crazy, what did it matter? It wouldn't change the fact that she'd made me miserable. If she could blame me for not fighting back sooner, why couldn't I blame her for not fighting off whatever influenced her? I at least came through with my principles in tact.

We were making a scene out in the hall as people gathered nearby to point and whisper.

She made big puppy eyes at me. "But I was doing it for you! Come on Taylor, don't you want to be friends again?"

I couldn't take it anymore. Even if her faith was somehow very high and she might be my best follower yet, just thinking about vindicating her delusions was making me feel sick.

"No. My best friend turned into a monster and doesn't even know it. You're insane. Delusional. And—"

I saw out of the corner of my eyes Sophia yawning her boredom in the background, while Madison was shooing people away. "Just because you woke up as a _predator_ doesn't mean you're strong. You're weak, and constantly running from the truth, trapped in your delusions."

"You don't get to call me weak!" Emma's face abruptly morphed into rage, and her palm came flying towards my face. I grabbed her wrist and held it tightly before her slap hit me.

"Why not? Afraid of the truth?"

"I was a survivor long before you. I fought back right away. I was never a victim, while you just took it for a year. Have you forgotten how you were begging for it to stop?" She glared at me without regard for her hand in my iron grip. I let her go with a slight push backwards.

"I didn't fight back because you were my best friend. A sister to me. I thought you would get over whatever the hell happened that summer and come to your senses, but you never did. You fought back right away, you said? Is that how you met Sophia? I always wondered about that. Did she torture you until you broke and got Stockholm's syndrome?"

Sophia perked up and gave me an annoyed glare. "Don't make up random shit. It wasn't me. It was ABB."

Emma froze.

"ABB? You were actually tortured by ABB?" I said with surprise.

"No, they didn't get me. Sophia helped me fight them off."

Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were calm and disdainful.

"I guess I was wrong. You're not a survivor. You just became more brutish and stupid, and you still don't understand how the world works. I tried to help you, but you just don't get it. Without me, you'd still be the loser that cried herself to sleep for a week. I made you strong, and now you think you're better than me? You're the one that's delusional. You really thought I was your best friend? That I wanted to be friends again? Didn't I tell you before? I was just pitying you. But you're too pathetic to even accept my pity."

My hands clenched into fists and I almost slugged her then and there. It was only my discipline that kept me back, knowing that if I did anything, the teachers would take her side as usual.

The [Friendly Unit] icon disappeared from her.

So this was [Doublethinker] in action. The definition of Doublethinker that Administrative Intellectus provided was wrong. No mental degradation? Emma was clearly fucked in the head.

Before I had time to think about how my power was coming up with this information, a group of guys shoved their way through the crowd and surrounded us. Most of them were East Asian and a couple looked Arabic.

Sophia looked at them warily and uncrossed her arms. "What do you want, Jun? Can't you see we're busy?"

Jun was a tall Asian with hair dyed white. He was the muscular but slim type, though you couldn't tell with the winter jacket he was wearing. I had seen him around before, and Madison had mentioned his name earlier…oh crap.

He was one of the rumored gang members.

"I was just getting ready to go home when a little birdie told me some bitches were dissing the ABB in the middle of the fucking hallway," he said while moving his head sideways as if stretching his neck.

"You heard wrong. This has nothing to do with you," Sophia said.

"Oh yeah? Is that right? These girls weren't talking about the ABB just now?" He made a show of asking around the crowd that was watching.

"They said they fought off the ABB!" Some dumbass shouted, probably hoping to see a fight. I couldn't see who it was in the crowd.

"So the Azn Bad Boyz are a joke that a few schoolgirls can fight off now? Is that what I'm hearing?" Jun walked around us in a circle.

"Who are you trying to impress, Jun? Back off and this won't have to end with you and friends in the hospital. You're not even in the ABB you wannabe." Sophia stepped towards Jun in aggressively.

One of his friends, a tall burly guy, probably a senior, got in her way.

"Shows what you know, Sophia," Jun reached into a pocket and pulled out a red and green scarf.

"The fuck is that supposed to be, Jun? You think buying a scarf with the right colours means you're part of them now?" Sophia gave him a sneer.

"Whatever makes you feel better at night, Sophia. I'm not the one that started getting all buddy-buddy with her so-called prey," he looked at me disdainfully as he said that. "Word's gotten around. Your little toy started barking louder and you got scared off like a popping hot air balloon."

"What's going on here?" The voice of Mr. Gladly reached me. We all turned to see the diminutive teacher coming from behind the crowd.

"Mind your own damn business, midget! There's nothing to see here!" Another one of Jun's friends got right in his face.

I saw Mr. Gladly flinch. "Y-you can't call me that, I'm a teacher here! Who are you?"

The guy reached into a pocket and flipped out a switchblade. "I said, _mind your own fucking business, midget_!"

There were gasps as the crowd moved away.

Mr. Gladly stepped back as well nervously. "H-hey, l-let's not be hasty!" Another aggressive swagger from the guy—was he even a student here?—and Mr. Gladly folded. "Alright, I'm gone, I'm gone!" He backed around the corner quickly and the crowd near him scattered equally fast.

Wonderful. I knew he was unreliable but…

Sophia snorted. "So you're seriously looking to get fucked up? You want to start something right here in the school?"

Jun shrugged. "Up to you girls. You can admit you were lying and get on your knees, or we're gonna have to teach you a lesson."

"Fuck you, Jun! The ABB are trash, and we'll beat you into the dirt!" Emma shouted.

"You, a bunch of _weak_ little girls are gonna beat us into the dirt? You're only good for looking pretty, miss stick thin model!" He said with a laugh, and his friends guffawed with him.

"Enough trash talking you pretentious wanker, if you're gonna do it, then fucking come at me!" Sophia screamed over their loud laughter.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" What was left of the crowd was cheering us on. Assholes.

Where the hell were the rest of the teachers? This was more than loud enough to get their attention, why wasn't anyone else coming to stop the fight? Heck, somebody just threatened a teacher with a knife, couldn't they call police or something?

Emma was shaking with rage. She cussed them out a few more times, then she looked at me and spoke in a low voice.

"Can you fight? If you can't, then stay behind me and try to get Madison away with you if you see a chance."

Did Sophia not tell her_ how_ she tested me? I was the one that should be worried about her, not the other way around. With [_Heroism_] on, I had the higher stats.

I took another glance around the guys who were cracking knuckles. That one guy with the switchblade had put it away and pulled out a metal baseball bat from inside his oversized coat.

God damn it! They obviously thought we were in the same group already and weren't just going to let me leave.

I wasn't too concerned about myself, but we were outnumbered ten to four, and Madison couldn't really fight. I mean, she had [_Endure_] and could take a beating, but she still had 0 attack and defense. These odds didn't look good, especially if they started using knives. Somebody was going to get hurt.

Then Sophia smashed her fist into her palm, and as if that was a signal, a couple of big black guys and one guy of what seemed to be Mediterranean descent came up slowly from the crowd behind Jun's group where they didn't notice.


	9. Baptism 1-9

**Baptism 1.9**

Angry Bat and Knife guy was first to make a move, as he suddenly turned around without warning and smashed the bat on one of the guys I thought was going to be Sophia's backup, as if he knew all along they were there despite never having looked back once.

The bat collided with one of the black guys' head and he just crumpled, while Angry Bat and Knife guy didn't miss a beat and immediately threw himself at the Mediterranean guy.

Sophia's eyes widened and she burst forward to assist when the other guys in Jun's group swarmed her.

Emma screamed an unintelligible war cry and charged in to attack the head of the group, Jun, who had been just watching as if he didn't plan to do anything.

One guy broke off from the five-man swarm attacking Sophia, trying to intercept Emma, and I took that as my cue to act.

I deftly sidestepped one guy who was swinging in with a punch, the dashed straight past the other one coming up behind him.

Madison was already on the ground after receiving a debilitating kick to her side. She didn't look like she was in too much pain, but she had lost her footing and was now getting kicked around repeatedly as she held tightly onto her assailant's leg.

I shoved the asshole kicking her aside, then grabbed Madison's arm and pulled her up with me into a run.

Yeah, I was running away.

Why? Because it wasn't my fight.

So what if my power thought Emma would make a good follower? So what if other people lumped me in with Emma and Sophia?

I was the one that called the shots, not my power and not some random gang wannabes.

The only reason I grabbed Madison was because she literally couldn't fight back with 0 attack, and it was wrong to just leave someone like that to get beat up, especially after I'd already sort of taken her under my wing earlier.

Once I dragged Madison around the corner, we kept going in a direct break for the Principal's office.

The proper thing to do when a fight breaks out is to get the teachers.

Barring that, I could use the phone in the admin office to call police.

The _wrong_ thing to do would be to join the fight and possibly get suspended. I knew that Emma and Sophia had pull with the admin, so maybe we would all be fine and it would be accepted as self-defense, but could I even be sure that they wouldn't say I was fighting on the other side after all was said and done?

No, I couldn't. Then, if I got Madison to back up my story, it'd still just be my word against theirs, with a bunch of witnesses around who weren't necessarily on our side either, judging by the tool that told Jun we were insulting the ABB.

The secretary gave me a frown when I barged in. She was already on the phone with someone, and Mr. Gladly was also in the office.

I quickly realized listening to the secretary that Mr. Gladly had already informed her of the situation. Okay, so maybe he wasn't totally useless.

We were asked to stay in the office as witnesses for when police arrived, and when the police did arrive a few minutes later, we led them to the scene of the fight.

By the time we got there, Jun's whole group had already escaped, and only Sophia, Emma, and the guys that were with Sophia were left.

Two of the guys were out cold, while Emma was on the ground leaning into Sophia. I could see that both of them were injured in various places, Emma more than Sophia.

Sophia saw us, then gave me a glare, I assume because I ran away instead of helping them.

I had nothing to be sorry for, so I ignored her.

I might have turned away an opportunity to make allies in this school, but I saw today that joining an existing group came with its own problems, namely, enemies.

What followed was the school medics coming to take everyone injured to the infirmary, and while they received medical care the police decided to question us first, along with some other volunteer witnesses.

While I had no reason to help Sophia and Emma, I didn't have any reason to lie either, so I told the police what happened, that Jun and his group suddenly came for a fight, and they started it first before I ran away.

Once that was done, I left for home.

I mean, Emma and Sophia weren't even my friends, so I had no reason to stick around and visit them in the infirmary or anything.

O O O

I had 116 MP in reserve when I went home, after using 30 on Madison during the day.

Not enough for another Heroism enchantment, but I wasn't going for that this time.

I soon spent 95 MP to make an Armlet of Heal with three charges.

Everything that I planned to keep for myself, I was going to make into armlets, necklaces, or anklets to avoid unnecessary attention. Armlets and anklets could be hidden entirely under my clothes, while some types of necklaces could hold multiple jewels or items hanging from them, all of which could be enchanted separately before being attached to the neck chain.

Rings were cool but they were too eye catching, especially if I was wearing multiple rings on different fingers, and while some people wore a lot of bracelets, I still thought it was too conspicuous.

Just getting a full set of enchantments and stat bonuses meant more than ten items, not even counting any future spells I might get.

And the items themselves were conspicuous too. The enchantments changed the items slightly, and I had seen that with both the armlets I'd made so far.

There was a script I couldn't read engraved onto the item, and from certain angles it seemed to reflect more light than should have been there. I didn't notice it with the first armlet, but I did notice it now, observing the new healing armlet.

It was a small difference, but enough that I was glad I took the extra precaution.

With that done, I went to the library and started researching into potential costume designs and the costs of making one. I was already feeling disappointed with the Wards program, and if I wasn't going to join the Wards I'd need my own costume.

A short while later, I came to the realization that any decent costume would be out of my current budget, which was basically zero.

Even the cosplay pieces that offered no protection whatsoever and just looked good, I had no money to buy.

Trying to make one out of my clothes and other stuff lying around the house would probably result in something embarrassing to go out with.

By now I could probably convince my dad to help out, but I really didn't want to.

After a moment of sitting around, I decided it was time to look into my options for being a rogue.

O O O

I didn't know what to expect when I called the PRT about registering as a rogue offering services, but they were quite eager to arrange a meeting despite the lack of promotion and information on their site.

We'd agreed on a location for me to wait at and they gave me a license plate to watch for, so they could pick me up within half an hour.

So I went out in a jacket with a big hood, put on sunglasses and a hygienic face mask, then walked a few streets to the designated location, just a neighbourhood curb, and waited.

The car that came to get me had nothing on it marking it as PRT, except the license plate number I was told ahead of time.

All in all, I would have looked like nothing more than a normal girl getting into a normal car, and that was the point.

I knocked on the passenger side window twice as the car came to a stop, as I was instructed.

The window rolled down a bit, then the driver inside who I saw to be a middle-aged man dressed in casual clothes spoke up. "Hey, front seat needs some repair work, you should head in the back instead."

I nodded, and went through the back seat door.

Everything was going according to the scenario the PRT had constructed to confirm both sides' identities.

As the car started moving, the driver looked at the rear view mirror to me.

"So you're White Mage?"

"Hi. Yes, I am. And you would be?"

"I'm officer Berger, PRT rogue relations manager. It's good to see another cape willing to work on the side of the law."

"Thank you for coming to pick me up in person. I wouldn't have expected a manager to go all the way out here to get me."

"Oh it's no trouble. Honestly we don't get enough rogues trying to register, so I have plenty of time on my hands. Most capes that contact the PRT are trying to join the Protectorate or Wards, or they have no idea so they contact the front desk and never reach me before they get persuaded to become a hero."

"I can imagine. But don't you guys get a lot of false alerts, too? People that don't actually have powers?"

He laughed out loud. "Yeah, the front desk does, and so do the Wards inquiries. But the ones that take the time to find the number to contact us for registering as a rogue? That's enough effort on your part for us to take it seriously. The fakes generally don't care about being a rogue. It's not sexy, it's not promoted, it's not all that safe either because PRT doesn't give that much support if you're not on the hero roster, so the few that do find their way to me are generally serious, and I'm happy to put in the extra effort for them."

I couldn't help but smile along with officer Berger's light-hearted tone. I'd been expecting a PRT that was going to try and pressure me into being a hero, but he wasn't doing any of that, and was doing a great job of making me feel more comfortable. Hopefully any deal we could reach would be just as comfortable.

Eventually we drove into the PRT's underground parking lot and went up through a few security checks before going to a generic meeting room, and he went to get me a glass of water before sitting down.


End file.
